


Nothing you confess could make me love you less

by Adarian



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 05:31:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7745167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the encounter with Hadriana, Fenris snaps at Hawke, equating her as a mage to his oppressors. When he recovers, he realizes how much he hurt her and goes to apologize. To his surprise, she forgives him instantly and reassures him that she'll stand by him through whatever comes next. In return, Fenris decides to try to let her in and allow himself to be vulnerable with her. </p><p>Written for a kink-meme prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing you confess could make me love you less

Hadriana lay dead on the ground, but Fenris' entire body still ached, his heart racing. He looked up at his companions, desperate for some confirmation that he was safe. His eyes met Hawke's and his friend looked stunned.

"What?" He barked angrily. 

"Fenris...you said you would let her go. I'm just...shocked. It's not like you to just-" 

Fenris snarled. "Of course you'd defend her. You'd defend any of your bloodthirsty kin, even if they slashed their wrists and summon the Archdemon in front of you. You are blind to what you truly are, Hawke. This is your nature, bloody on the ground. Magic will always lead to this. There is no such thing as a good mage."

Hawke took a deep breath. "Fenris, we should go."

Fenris refused. "You can stay and mourn your dead, Hawke. Do not trouble yourself by playing the saint for me. Your pity is better faked elsewhere."

Isabela stepped forward but Hawke put out her arm to stop her.

"Fenris," Hawke said softly, "I'm on your side. You're hurt. Let's just go get some fresh air and we'll bandage up your arm. It's okay."

Fenris shook his head angrily, his entire body trembling. "No, it's not."

He fled, leaving Hawke and their companions alone in the abandoned lair. He dared not look back.

***

Fenris returned to the mansion and hid away in the one room he had claimed for himself. He picked up one of the bottles of wine he stored in the closet and grabbed whatever preserved meats that Hawke had placed beside it. He ate quickly and turned his attention to his drink. After a few sips he locked his door and shuttered the window. He kept his sword beside the bed as he drank. He ripped a strip from his sheets and wrapped it around his still bleeding arm. 

He had always gone to Hawke before, trusting her over Anders. Hawke would lay her hand on him and his heart would race, relishing the chance to look into her amber-brown eyes, to have one touch that didn't hurt. 

He had been a fool. The same magic flowed through her veins as it did Hadriana. There was no difference between the woman who beat him black and blue and the one who claimed to care about him. It was the same thing, the same power over him, the same unnatural control over his body. Had he thought otherwise just because of a sweet smile? Was he that much an idiot? 

He finished the bottle and opened a second. He drank this one slower, not wanting to leave the bedroom again. Fenris' thoughts turned to Hawke again, wondering if she was home now, if she safe. He tried to push it away, but he could too easily imagine her. Hawke was strong, but she had always felt things so deeply. Her compassion was what made her dangerous, that utter desire to do whatever was needed to protect the innocent. And when she failed, she fell apart.

She'd be home now, he thought. Blaming herself for his outburst, thinking there was something else she could have done or said. Maybe thinking she could have saved Hadriana. Though he had seen her run through slavers without a thought. It was one of the rare occasions he saw her act without control or foresight. But he wasn't scared of her then. He often felt a barrier around him then, as if Hawke's last act as a reasonable woman was to protect him from harm.

The more he stared at the bottle, the more that came to him. It was less of a realization about how he felt for her. He might not have let himself say the words out loud, but it was something he had accepted long ago. He loved her. Love was weakness, infatuation, something that could be easily twisted and spoiled.

What was enfolding in his heart was the possibility that she might feel the same. He knew she loved him, but it was...damn, this was easier in Tevene. Hawke loved him the way she loved her brother and sister mages, how she loved little children who scraped their knees and ran to her for her care. How she loved stray kittens and the butcher who gave her scraps to feed them with. She radiated love and it had taken Fenris years to accept it for what it was. There was more to Hawke than just this goodness, but the secrets she hid were those of her own pain and loss.

But the way she looked at him, the way her face fell, there was more than insult written in her eyes. There was a mirroring of his own pain. She felt with him, even as he lashed out at her. He had wanted so badly to break free from her but now he missed her. He wanted to be by her side, to feel the softness of her hair, to hear her surprisingly indelicate laugh that always made him smile. He had thought he wanted to be alone, but he so desperately wanted her then that it made his chest hurt. 

He had one person in his life who loved him and he broken her heart. Even if only for his own selfish reasons, he knew he needed to make it right. 

Fenris stumbled back out onto the street and down into central Hightown. He let himself in the backdoor that Anders used, startled to see Hawke falling asleep in a chair nearby. She stirred at the door creaking open and sighed when she saw him. 

"Thank the Maker you're okay," she said, standing.

He embraced her and she curled into his frame. She had already put on her night cream, smelled of the cool winter nights. He loved that smell when it still lingered in the mornings. He knew it meant that Hawke had been able to sleep in her own bed. 

"I'll get you some water and some willow bark, or you're going to have an awful headache in the morning. Go on upstairs and you can lie down. I don't want to wake everyone up down here."

Fenris went up to her room and sat on the couch by the fire. Hawke returned a few minutes later with a glass of cold water and sprinkled some powder into it. He drank it quickly, trying to ignore the taste. She sat beside him, making sure to keep distance between them. She was clearly waiting for him to speak.

Seeing how skittish she was around him, he felt utterly ashamed. "Hawke...Hawke, about what I said. I'm so sorry."

She didn't respond at first, only moved closer to him. 

"When Carver joined the Templars, I could feel the change in him," Hawke said softly. "I could sense the lyrium in his blood. And though we had grown up together and loved each other, even though he would never hurt me, sometimes I was afraid of him. If he came home when I wasn't expecting him and suddenly I sensed him, I'd start panicking. It got easier over the years, but every once in awhile I look over at him and think...I think that my brother could destroy me and I wouldn't be able to stop him. Even if I love him, even if I trust him, it still lingers sometimes."

Hawke looked into his eyes. "I can't imagine what you went through, Fenris. I can't even fathom what you're feeling right now. But I do know for almost all of your memory mages controlled every piece of your life. You were vulnerable and they nearly destroyed you."

He laid his hand on hers. "That does not make what I said right."

"No," she agreed, "it doesn't, but that doesn't matter to me right now. Fenris...we've known each other nearly five years. We've gone through so much together. You've always protected me. You've done everything from taking arrows for me to carrying me home when I've drunk too much. You were the one who stayed up all night with me when my mother died. Something you said to me right after facing the woman who tortured you for years is not going to erase all that."

"It should," he whispered, pulling away. 

He leaned against the mantle of the fireplace. 

"I'm terrified of you," he confessed. "You are stronger in magic than many I knew in Tevinter and the people here let you walk without restraint because of your royal name. I have watched for years as you've accumulated allies and coin. You are not like them and I see that. I see it every day I am with you. There are not people like you, Hawke. People are not simply good without wanting more. I have waited for years for that side of your nature to show, but it never has. I do not believe it ever will, even if I still fear it. And if you are as noble as you seem to be, then you deserve a better man. A less broken one, one that can love you as you are without fear."

The word had stumbled out but he made no effort to retract it. Hawke rose and put her hand on his arm. 

"I can't live up to being the one good mage," Hawke said softly. "If you...if we want to make this work, we both have to know we're going to make mistakes. But I promise you that I will try to give you everything you need and to make you feel safe." 

A tear spilled down her cheek and he wiped it away. 

"I trust you," he whispered. 

He cupped her face in his hands, his heart racing. He kissed her tentatively, the taste of her lips encouraging him to kiss her harder. Without thinking, he put his hand on the small of her back and brought her close. He wanted her to touch him. He wanted to feel like his body belonged to him. That he was sharing it instead of having it taken from him. 

She pulled away to help him take off his outerwear, his gear slowly put on the floor piece by piece. When he stood before her in just his leggings and shirt, he put out his hands to stop her. 

"I can't," he apologized. 

"That's fine," she assured. "Do you want to stop?"

Fenris nodded, feeling relieved.

"I'll get the guest room set up for you," she said, taking his hands in hers. "You look dead on your feet."

"I'd like...I'd like to stay with you."

She tried to hide her surprise, but Fenris could read her face easily. She was nervous too and the thought comforted him.

"Of course," she said. "I'll just go wash up. I'd offer you other clothes, but no one in this house is anywhere near your size."

"I'll be fine," he said. 

Hawke left the room and he stripped down to his smallclothes and lay down in the bed. His belly felt tight and he tried to relax his body. Hawke returned a few moments later and lay down beside him, giving him space. They had slept beside each other before, years of sharing tents made them comfortable with each other. But there was a distance that no words could breach and Hawke was not going to cross it unless he made the first move. 

So he did.

Fenris pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She wrapped her leg around his hip as he kissed her hungrily, desperate for her. She put her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his bare chest. She let go only to take her nightgown off and toss it aside. She wore no small clothes underneath.

He groaned into her neck, his hand dipping between her legs. She was wet enough that his finger slipped right into her. He withdrew and rolled her beneath him. She grasped onto him tightly. She wasn't quite ready, he could feel it, but he needed her. He needed her to feel how much he needed her. When her eyes met his, she nodded. 

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him into her as he thrust. He moaned at the feeling of her, hot and tight around him. He gripped her hips and pounded into her. She whispered his name and rubbed her clit between them. He kissed desperately at her throat, her collarbone, his teeth grazing against her skin. 

She made herself come on his cock, squeezing tightly around him. He felt himself grow close, her nectar dripping down their bodies, her flushed breasts brushing against his skin as he moved in her. She cried out his name, pleading with him not to stop. He shuddered, his abdomen tightening, his body unable to stop itself.

He pulled out just in time, spilling onto her belly. He cried out her name, wrapping his body around hers as he rode out his crest against her slicked skin. When he came to his senses, a wave of panic washed through him. He got out of the bed and paced in front of the fire, his heart racing. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm his body. 

Hawke asked, "What is it?"

Fenris whispered, "I don't know."

She stood and held him. He folded into her arms, desperate for her body against his. 

"I'm here," she promised, stroking his face. "You're safe."

And for a brief moment, his chest softened. He was. Hawke had gone into the depths of hell with him and she was still by him on the other side. As much as a mortal could be, she was a woman of her word. If she said he was safe, then he was. 

He kissed her tenderly and cradled the back of her head.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. 

"It's in the past," she reassured him. "I want to move on. With you by my side."

He murmured, "As do I."

She nuzzled into him and his body relaxed slightly. He was not sure how long they stood there, sweaty and filthy, holding each other in front of the fire. But eventually Hawke cleaned up and brought them both to bed. He held onto her tightly, not able to sleep. 

But having her beside him helped, more than any wine ever could. He vowed then that he would try to be better for her. He wanted to be the man she seemed to see in him. 

She started snoring and he restrained a chuckle, snuggling into the sheets. He kissed her shoulder and closed his eyes. At least the sound helped drone out his hurried thoughts. It was almost soothing.


End file.
